There are certain relationships in life that are simply woven into your story from the beginning. You don’t choose them, and yet somehow, they become the most important ones you’ll ever have. That’s how I feel about my sisters. They are the thread that runs through every chapter of my life, sometimes tangled, sometimes stretched, but never broken.
Friendships, as wonderful and meaningful as they can be, often have an expiry date. People change, circumstances shift, priorities evolve. Sometimes you outgrow each other quietly, and other times you’re painfully torn apart. Friends come and go with the seasons, and that’s okay. But sisters? Sisters are forever. Sisters don’t just witness your growth, they grow with you. Or, at the very least, they sit with you through your growing pains. They give you the space to become who you are, without needing you to explain who you were.
I have two sisters. Both so different, and yet both have shaped me in ways I’ll spend a lifetime being grateful for.
My middle sister and I are exactly three years apart to the day. Same birthday, three years between us and if you think that’s sweet, let me assure you, it wasn’t always. We hated each other when we were younger. We fought constantly, argued over everything, and somehow both thought we were the one being reasonable. But somewhere along the messy road to adolescence, something shifted. Maybe it was shared heartbreaks, teenage secrets, or the realisation that life is easier when you have someone on your side whatever it was, she became my best friend. My partner in crime. My favourite person to laugh with, cry with, and just be myself around. She’s the person I can be totally honest with and know she’ll love me anyway.
Then there’s my youngest sister, the baby of the trio, nine years younger than me. And yes, for those wondering, we do have the same parents. We just have different surnames because our parents married when I was 17, and I kept my mum’s maiden name. It’s funny how something as small as a name can make people question your bond, but there’s no doubt in my mind or my heart that she is my sister in every sense of the word.
We haven’t always seen eye to eye. There were moments where I struggled with some of the choices she made, times when I couldn’t understand her, and maybe didn’t even try hard enough to. But the older I got, the more I realised that love isn’t about understanding or agreeing all the time. It’s about accepting that people live life differently, and that their happiness doesn’t have to look like your version of it. I had to unlearn the idea that being an older sister meant leading the way and start embracing the idea that it meant walking beside her, even when I didn’t know where we were going. Growing older has taught me that love isn’t about control it’s about understanding, or at the very least, respect. I’m so proud of who she is, and I’d choose her as my sister every time, name or not.
What makes our bond so special- all three of us- is that there is no performance. No pretending. We don’t have to soften our words or walk on eggshells. There’s no expectation to be perfect, or even to be “fine” when we’re clearly not. The honesty in our relationship is the most freeing thing. We say what needs to be said. Sometimes it's messy, sometimes it hurts- but it’s real. And that’s the difference between sisterhood and friendship.
Friendships can be fragile. They often rely on unspoken rules and emotional guesswork- you second guess how much to share, how honest to be, whether your silence will be misunderstood. With friends, sometimes you feel the pressure to maintain a version of yourself. But with sisters, you don’t have to read minds or hold back. You just are. And they’re still there.
There’s a comfort in knowing that no matter how much time passes, no matter how annoyed we might get at each other, no matter how far life takes us in different directions- the love doesn’t shift. It doesn’t fade. It doesn’t disappear. The caring never ends in sisterhood. The bond just weathers every storm and keeps standing, stronger for having been through it all.
But make no mistake- if someone tries to come between us, the unity only grows stronger. There is a fierce kind of protection that comes with sisterhood. Outsiders might think they can plant seeds of division through manipulation, jealousy, judgement, or control but what they don’t realise is this: we’ve been through too much together to ever be pulled apart that easily.
We’ve weathered family chaos, heartbreak, grief, misunderstandings, and growing pains. We’ve made peace after painful words. We’ve stood by each other when it would’ve been easier to walk away. So when someone tries to stir the pot, they quickly find themselves outside of it. Because nobody gets to turn us against each other.
Blood might not always mean loyalty, but in our family, it does. And loyalty doesn’t always mean agreeing it means showing up, again and again, even when it’s hard.
As we’ve grown older, we’ve grown closer. We’ve started to cherish our time together more- because adulthood has taught us how rare it is to feel completely at ease with someone. We’ve created a space where we don’t have to impress or perform. We can show up tired, fed up, emotional, or just craving a laugh- and we’ll be met with open arms. That kind of connection is gold.
We don’t always say “I love you,” but we show it in a million little ways. In the way we check in. In the shared glances across a room when something funny happens. In the texts that say, “I saw this and thought of you.” In the memories we still laugh about from years ago. In the brutal honesty we’re brave enough to share, because we know it comes from love.
I wouldn’t be who I am without them. We’ve lived through different seasons at different times- but we’ve always come back to each other. And that, to me, is the heart of sisterhood: the returning. No matter what life looks like, we always find our way back to each other.
My sisters are not just family- they’re my lifelong companions, my sounding boards, my constant support system. We are not perfect, and we don’t need to be. Because in this sisterhood, perfection is irrelevant. What matters is that we show up, we stay honest, and we love each other- loudly, messily, and unconditionally.
So here’s to the ones who knew me before I knew myself. The ones who don’t care what I do for a living, how I look, or whether I’m “doing life right.” They just care that I’m me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life loving them right back.
And finally, thank you to my mum and dad for giving me the lifelong gift of my sisters, a bond I cherish as much as the family I now have of my own.
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